Arts of Deception
by MelissaLianne
Summary: After clocking off, Mac shows Stella his affectionate side. But terrible things are to come; what does the most feared gang in NYC want with Mac and Stella? And will they get out of it alive? R&R.


**A/N: **The first chapter with a cliffhanger! A questioning beginning and a dark ending... what will happen to Stella and Mac? R&R please! x

With a final glance through her notes, Stella Bonasera rose from her desk and pushed the casefiles she'd been studying to one side. It was nine PM and she should have finished work an hour ago - maybe if she had she wouldn't end up where she did. . .

"Stella - wait a moment. . ."

She looked up to see Mac Taylor smiling uncertainly at her, no doubt wondering why she was still working. "Your shift ended an hour ago, did it not?"

"As you often say yourself Mac, there's no time like the present and given my casefiles," she indicated the mountain of files with a tired smile, "I figured, hey, why not make a start?"

Mac nodded and fidgeted on the spot, brushing invisible dust off her desk. The first odd thing Stella noticed was that he was looking uncomfortable. And secondly, conversation was easy with Mac, if you knew him like Stella did. She knew him inside out - how he really felt about things, how much he resented certain suspects to little things like what his favourite coffee was and which newspaper, should he be bothered, he'd be likely to buy. "CanIWalkYouHome?"

It came out in such a rush - so unlike Mac Taylor that Stella flinched, her eyes raising to his searchingly. "What was that, Mac?" She slid on her coat and fingered the fine embroidery, now too embarrassed to look at him. Perhaps she had spoilt what he'd been trying to offer.

Mac sighed. He didn't like repeating himself, and although it was his fault that she'd misheard, he couldn't help but feel she was enjoying this. "I said can I walk you home?" When Stella didn't answer he looked at her sharply, burrowing his brow - the exact same way he treated suspects. "I don't have to - I mean, we don't have to walk together. I just thought it'd be nice to accompany you for a change. After all, we are good friends."

Good friends is all we'll ever be, Stella's mind was saying, but her lips curved into a grateful smile. "That sounds good. Are you up to something? I'm not going to cook at this hour, no way." When he didn't contradict her, she laughed and cussed at him in Greek.

He chuckled and headed towards the door, holding it open for her. "You'll have to teach me your native language sometime, Stell. I can use it on suspects and they'll confess anything and everything within about thirty seconds."

"Certainly! But I'm wondering," she brushed past him as she left her office, "Whether or not you're interested in ordering a 'Stella Special' from my menu." She nudged him playfully, still smiling. "Free meals and language lessons for the price of nothing. . . I mean, that's all you seem to want from me at the moment!"

Mac closed the door in silence and they walked down the corridor without talking. He let his arm brush against hers a few times as they left the building, and she looked at him in confusion. They walked along the 'almost' quiet streets of New York, still silent. They were drawing close to a Pizza Parlour, and Mac paused momentarily.

"I wonder if they specialize in Stella Specials." He nodded towards the window, where two sleepy Italian men were falling asleep over the counter.

Relieved, Stella laughed. Mac saw the remnants of her happiness flutter into the wind, and perhaps it was the magic of the night or the rapid beating of his heart, but as he gently pushed her against the window, his hands fitting the curves of her hips perfectly, his eyes began to burn and he kissed her for the first time. Her eyes closed and she moved her lips with his silently, her hands resting on his back. After a few moments he pulled away, and smiled tentatively. The two Italian guys were now cheering and clapping loudly. Stella giggled in embarrassment, and Mac stepped away from her. His eyes were sparkling. "Let's..." he seemed breathless without realizing it, "Let's continue our walk."

Stella was unsure how to react. Her feet felt as though they were glued to the pavement. "Stell. Come on." He noticed her cheeks were pink and her teeth were chattering. He took off his coat with little thought and wrapped it around her shoulders. "I thought you were coming down with something," he said casually, as if nothing had happened, "You have seemed a little off all day. . ."

"You caught me off guard," she admitted, grateful of the extra warmth. She looked at Mac in his T-shirt and shook her head, curls bouncing. "You must be frozen!"

He began to lead her down the street and laughed. "I would be frozen Stell, but you warm my heart."

"Mac..."

"Another ten minutes," he pleaded, "We're almost at your apartment, Detective."

"I'll sure as hell be interrogating you," mumbled Stella. What had that kiss been about? And what was Mac Taylor's game?

What Stella didn't know was that Mac had been building up the courage to do that for a few months, even if that was how it would end - he wanted a memory he could carry with him till he was old and grey.

Out of the blue, Stella stumbled and fell to her knees. Mac, being a detective, saw what was happening straight away. "Stell, what's wrong?"

She tried to speak but her lips wouldn't move - her brown eyes were taking in every inch of his face. There was a tranquilizer dart stuck in her neck. "Stell!" Mac quickly tucked his coat under her head for support and fumbled in his Jean pockets for his cell phone.

As soon as he pressed 2, the autodial for Danny, he felt numb.

"Hello? Mac? Is that you? Hello?" Danny's voice crackled at the end of the line, but Mac couldn't answer. He fell to his side and closed his eyes, falling out of consciousness, just like Stella.

The man from the shadows moved, five men surrounding him. "Use gloves," he said, his voice a mask of disguise, "Don't want any fingerprints left behind, do we?"

One of the accomplices clumsily kicked Mac's cell phone into the gutter, forgetting about it. As Mac and Stella were lifted from the floor and put in the back of a van, tied up and mouths taped, Danny was listening. He had heard everything.

"Don, Lindsay, Adam! Trace the phone will ya? Somethin's happenin' to Mac and I don't care if it's a blip or not, okay?"


End file.
